disclosure
by whatifellinlovewith
Summary: Disclosure: (noun) the action of making new or secret information known. Castle and Beckett tell their friends about their new, tiny addition. Sequel to 'fortuitous' and 'revelation'.
1. Chapter 1

_**disclosure**_

* * *

_disclosure: _(noun) the action of making new or secret information known

* * *

"You really don't want to tell them until we get home, Kate?" he asks for what must be the _hundredth _time and she rolls her eyes, leaning back against her pillow and tilting her head to the side as he paces back and forth in her hospital room. The nurses and doctors and patients who walk by her door would probably never guess that _he's_ the one who's done this before and _she's _the new mom.

"Castle," she sighs again, this conversation being one they've had multiple times since yesterday afternoon, when Alexis had offhandedly mentioned Lanie and the boys and Castle had started freaking out about her going back to work and telling their friends and Gates. And when she told him she wanted to wait until they were home to tell them, well, the first version of _this _conversation began. "I'm going home in like two hours."

He turns to her, eyes wide with an almost comedic mixture of fear and uncertainty. "You know I think that's a bad idea, Kate. You had a baby _two days _ago. And it wasn't even planned. You were… You were in our bathtub," he rambles, much like he has multiple times today, "which means you could have an infection or something or _he _could have an infection. What if they missed something, Kate? Don't you think it's too early?"

"No, babe, I don't think it's too early. I feel perfectly fine, beyond a little cramping, which is _normal _after delivery. They have checked me over and over again. My bloodwork is perfect. My pulse and blood pressure are perfect. I'm fine," she tells him. She pushes herself up so she's sitting up straighter, reaches out to him, silently asking him to take her hand.

He does, his fingers tense with worry and she sighs, a need to calm him down washing over her when his eyes meet hers. "I just… It was so scary seeing you in that much pain, especially before we knew what was going on, but even after, Kate. I was so scared something would go wrong and I wouldn't be able to help because I have _no _medical training of any sort. I just… I'm still worried, okay?"

She smiles, squeezes his hand. "I know. And you're allowed to be worried. But we're fine, Castle. B.J. and I are both perfectly fine. The doctors all made sure of it, okay? And today, we get to go home with our little boy. Be happy about it," she stells him, keeping her voice low as her free hand reaches up to cradle his jaw. "Plus," she whispers, "I really want to get out of this hospital gown and back into normal clothes."

He laughs softly, and the sound brings a smile to her face. "I don't know, Kate. I think you rock the hospital gown," he tells her, his previous frown morphing into a teasing grin, bringing her husband back. She can't help but grin back at him. "Especially when you get up to go to the bathroom, such a great view." He reaches out and pinches her side gently, teasingly, but not hard enough to make her jump.

She simply slaps him playfully in the chest. "_Castle_," she warns halfheartedly, leaning forward, towards him, "you know I can't do anything like _that _until at least six weeks from now. That's what the doctor said," she reminds him. His hand cradles the base of her ribcage, drifts up her side. She catches his fingers in hers before he can too far, squeezes his fingers before letting his hand fall back to the bed. "Besides, I just had your baby, you should be focussing on _that _instead of on my ass."

He opens his mouth to say something, but they're interrupted by the clearing of a throat. She turns towards the door to find a young, kind looking nurse standing there. She has an amused smile on her face and their baby boy in her arms. Instantly, she finds herself leaning back against the bed, smiling sweetly like she was not just talking about her ass. Her arms ache for her baby boy, for B.J., just at the sight of him.

"Hello," says the nurse sweetly, taking a couple steps into the room. "You're little man will be officially discharged from the nursery as soon as you sign the paperwork the doctor will bring in soon," she announces, a smile playing at her lips. "He's still asleep, has been since you last changed him. Perfectly healthy, happy little boy," she continues, taking another few steps into the room. Slowly, the nurse sets Brandon in her arms, and she relishes in the warm weight of her baby. "Congratulations," whispers the nurse. "And both his doctor and yours should be here with your official discharge papers in a few minutes."

She nods in acceptance, reaches out to grab Castle's hand before he starts quizzing the kind nurse on _why _they're being released now and not in a few hours. He stays sitting next to her, and even though she can tell he's not focused on her, she's glad he's quiet, that he lets the nurse go without his worry-filled interrogation. She runs her thumb across his over and over again, trying to keep him calm.

Once the nurse is out of sight, she feels his eyes back on her, and then on their son. Brandon is wearing one of the many onesies Alexis bought him during her shopping trip yesterday. This one is white with a blue elephant printed on the front of it. She gave it to them with a sky blue stuffed elephant that's like twice Brandon's size. She had said it was for the future nursery, the one they would all put together for B.J. at some undetermined point in the future. He wore it last night.

She turns to Castle, a smile playing at her lips. "Can you get me the outfit out of the diaper bag?" she asks, pointing to the bag her overly-organized stepdaughter put together for them yesterday, with a little help from the internet. He smiles and nods, reaching over for the bag as she looks back down at B.J. "You hear that, baby boy?" she whispers to Brandon. "We're going home."

Castle sits back down in his seat, setting the tinie outfit on the edge of the bed. Alexis, thanks to her father's credit card, had gone all out when shopping for her baby brother, coming home with enough clothes to last Brandon the first few months of his life. She had told them that they needed a _special _outfit to bring him home in, and from the giant pile of clothing, she chose this.

It's a white onesie with short sleeves and snaps at the crotch to ease the process of changing his diaper. Down the front, there's a light blue, polkadotted tie printed onto the material, a dark brown line sewn around it. She paired it with a pair of legging-like pants, the light blue and brown stripes matching the tie on the onesie. There's a pair of tiny socks to keep his little feet warm and a light blue cap, much like the one he wore as soon as they got to the hospital.

She smile, lays a still sleeping Brandon down on the bed in front of her, and delicately begins to undo the buttons of his onesie, careful not to wake him.

* * *

They insist on wheeling her out of the hospital. He watches her protest until she eventually relents, more dead set on going home than on walking out of the hospital. He also watches as one of the nurses helps her carefully strap Brandon into his baby carrier, adjusting the straps so the clips sit at the right spots on his small body, to keep him as safe as possible. He rocks Brandon in the baby carrier as he waits while she gets changed into a pair of yoga pants and a loose t-shirt that used to be his.

She takes a seat in the wheelchair and he rests the baby carrier on her thighs, placing a small, folded up blanket between the hard plastic and her thighs to make her more comfortable. They take the elevator down to the first floor. Kate rocks the baby carrier on her lap, her fingers plucking at the corner of the blanket they folded over Brandon's thighs, like she's scared something's out of place. He squeezes her shoulder gently.

The nurse offers to wait with Kate while he goes and brings the car to the door. He goes to agree when Kate stands up and _insists _that she walk, rambling about how women have been giving birth and going to work out in the field the next day and the least she can do is walk to the car herself. He tells the nurse that there's no point arguing with his wife, especially when it comes to her independance. The nurse laughs as Kate glares at him.

He carries the baby carrier in one hand. He drapes his other arm across her lower back. She's tense as she walks, not overly so, but he can tell she's still sore. She ends up climbing into the backseat of the car, saying something about how that's what all mothers seem to do when they bring their baby home. They sit with the baby. So he helps her into the seat, watches her shift until she's comfortable, and then takes her glare as the message it is and walks around the car to the other side.

Jim and Alexis had helped him get the car seat base into place, even though he insisted he could do it on his own, reminding them both that he _had _done this before. Alexis had just laughed at him, and then she had sat in the passenger seat of the car and read the instructions to him and Jim as they twisted and turned and clipped and tightened and adjusted until the base was securely in place, ready to keep Brandon safe during his first car ride.

Today, he manages to clip the actual seat into place rather easily, listening to Kate's comments about how she expected it to take him longer, considering what Alexis told her. He laughs sarcastically before adjusting Brandon's blanket one last time before closing the door and climbing into the driver's seat. Brandon is still asleep, Kate tired, so the ride back to the loft is mostly silent. He likes it that way, relishes in it because he knows that silence isn't something they'll have very often, not now, not with a baby.

He carries the car seat back into his building, holds Brandon between himself and Kate. Her fingers lock around the carrier's handle, too, and they carry their baby into the building together. The doorman's eyes go wide when they walk in, though Kate doesn't seem to notice. It's a different young man than the one that was working the other day, so, of course, he doesn't know about Brandon yet. He just smiles at the young man before following Kate's lead all the way to the elevator.

She rests her head on his shoulder as they wait for the elevator to reach their floor, B.J. still asleep between them. Her hand releases the car seat's handle, fingers wrapping around his arm. With his free hand, he reaches up to cradle the side of her head, brushes his fingers through her hair, which is pulled back into a low ponytail. She sighs against him, and he turns slightly, just enough to see her eyes drift closed.

The elevator doors open and he leads her to their door. She opens it and he follows her into the loft. His mother and Alexis are already waiting, sitting in the kitchen like it's any other day, but it's not. He leads Kate over to the couch, sets Brandon down on the table in front of her. She reaches for her baby, so he carefully undoes the clasps of the car seat's belts, gently lifts Brandon from the seat and rests him on Kate's chest.

She nuzzles her nose against Brandon's head. "Welcome home, baby," she whispers, and, as he watches them, it suddenly feels like this was all planned and anticipated and, even though he knows it wasn't, he knows one thing for certain. This is perfect.

* * *

She needs to wash off. Her hair is a greasy mess, for starters, and the rest of her feels...dirty from the days spent in the hospital. And she tells Castle so, eyes half open as she squeezes his fingers, her other hand splayed across B.J.'s back. He offers to run her a bath, checking with Alexis to make sure they're tub has been cleaned since she gave birth in it, and despite her protests, he disappears into their bedroom only a minute later.

Brandon is still asleep, laying on her check. His lips are wet, his tongue poking out against her neck as he sleeps. She holds the blanket between her palm and his back, smooths it down over his bottom, gently rubs circles onto his back. He's warm, comfortably so, a happy weight against her chest. Not like the metaphorical weight she felt after being shot, the one that made it hard to breathe. No, this weight is real, and it's incredible, it makes it _easier _to breathe, has her entire being consumed by love like she's never known.

He's going to wake up soon. She knows that much. It's definitely been almost two hours since he was last fed, which means he'll be hungry again soon, likely within the next thirty minutes. It's one of the reasons she was hesitant about taking a bath, but then Castle had assured her that she _could _breastfeed in the tub, so long as it wasn't a bubble bath or something overly soapy. He had also told her it would soothe her still sore muscles, but that was just an added bonus.

Once the bath is run, Castle comes back into the living room. He slowly helps her off the couch, his hand landing on her waist as they walk to the bathroom. Martha and Alexis have been mostly silent since they got home, surprising her by not making a huge fuss about all this. She's kind of glad, though, knowing that she still has to tell her team, her best friend and her boss. And as he takes Brandon off her chest, settles their baby boy against his own, and then supports her as she climbs into the tub, it dawns on her that they have someone else to tell, too.

"You have to call Paula," she tells him once she's settled in the tub, water drifting over the sore muscles of her stomach. It's gentle, soothing, just like he predicted. For a minute, she wonders if giving birth would have been even more painful had she been in the bed instead of the tub, or anywhere but in the tub, for that matter. And then she forces her eyes open to meet his. "We have to...announce this before somebody on the street does it for us. I want this to be done our way, Castle. I want this to be done right."

He nods slowly, carefully. "Okay. Do you want to call her now? Before we tell the boys and Lanie and Gates?" he asks. His one hand holds Brandon against his chest, the other reaching out to curve around the edge of the tub. She rests her fingers over his. "We can get a tiny article published in tomorrow's paper. No new pictures, no quotes nothing. Just a tiny little statement saying we had a baby."

She nods, about to form her reply when Castle's hand flies from the edge of the tub, rests on Brandon's bottom as the baby begins to squirm in his arms. His high pitched cry pierces the calm bathroom air. She's about to panic when she sees Castle calmly tilt B.J. backwards. Brandon is small enough to rest on Castle's arm, and, carefully, Castle withdraws his one arm from beneath their baby, carefully brushes Brandon's bottom lip with his fingertip. The baby calms down almost instantly, lips closing around Castle's finger, sucking until he eventually realizes that he's actually _not _being fed.

Castle turns to her with a smile. "Definitely hungry," he says softly. "You up for feeding him in there? I tried to keep the water shallow enough. He shouldn't get too wet. We'll leave him in his diaper, just in case, but you should try to keep that dry, okay?" he suggests. She nods slowly, repeating what he's said to herself. Naked baby. Keep diaper dry. "You can feed him then we'll call Paula. Does that sound good?"

"You can call her while he's eating," she tells him as he sits down on the floor and begins undressing Brandon on the bathroom rug. He looks up at her with wide, shocked eyes. "What? It's normal to breastfeed. Women have been doing it for centuries. And it's not like Paula will know, anyway, if that's what makes _you _uncomfortable," she tells him, propping herself up on the edge of the tub to watch as he strips Brandon out of his onesie and socks and hat, leaving their boy in just his diaper.

He cradles their tiny baby in his hands, the splay of his fingers dwarfing Brandon, making him look so tiny and delicate. The smile on Castle's face is wide and proud, makes her smile, too. "I'm not uncomfortable, Kate. It's just… Meredith didn't breastfeed, said it was gross to have a baby sucking on her nipple. And I just…" He lets out a soft sigh. "You didn't even know you were pregnant, Kate, and you're already such a great mom. It amazes me."

A soft "Oh," escapes her before she can stop it, and she sinks back into the tub in relief. Castle smiles at her, holds Brandon up, offering their still crying son to her. She holds her arms out, gently takes Brandon into her arms, her fingers supporting his head. Carefully, one arm draped across his back, the other supporting his diaper-clad bottom, she brings him to her chest.

Sure enough, the water is shallow enough, so it keeps Brandon dry. Only the tips of his toes brush the water, but her baby boy doesn't care, because he's focused intently on his meal, eyes wide open, clouded in that way newborns' eyes always are. His tiny hand rests against the curve of her breast, his lips closed around her nipple as he eats greedily. She loves the sight, loves knowing that he's getting something only she can give him, something he so desperately needs. She loves knowing she's a mom, _his _mom.

Next to her, she hears Castle talking on the phone, trying to get two words in during his introductions with Paula. She smiles at his fumbling, looks down at Brandon and starts cooing at her son about how crazy Paula makes his daddy. The baby is oblivious, but it makes Castle smile. He reaches into the tub to gently run his fingers along the sole of Brandon's foot. The baby twitches in reaction, and then keeps eating silently.

Eventually, Brandon has to be switched from one breast to the other. Her hand on his bottom, she pulls him off one breast and flips him so his face hover in front of the other. He latches on immediately, and as soon as he does, he starts eating greedily all over again. She smiles, turns to Castle to see him smiling, too, having given up on stopping Paula's rant. Soon enough, though, he's pulling his phone away from his ear and is resting it on the edge of the tub, tapping the screen to put it on speakerphone.

"Rick, I swear, you have to tell me what's going on, why you're acting so weird," says Paula before falling silent for a second. "Did you put me on speakerphone? Why am I on speakerphone? Rick? Is Kate there, too?" she continues, her voice an equally annoyed and annoying interruption to the bliss that surrounded her small family. She winces, swallowing back a chuckle as Castle rolls his eyes exaggeratedly.

"Yes, Paula, Kate's here, too," he says calmly. "We actually have a favor to ask, and before you can start giving me crap for calling out of the blue wanting a favor, just listen," he tells her, waiting a second to get Paula's reluctant approval. "There's been a new...development in our relationship, and we need you to announce it all the while keeping it as minimal as possible."

"Sure, Rick, just let me know what it is, and we'll find a way to do this that suits you and Kate," says Paula, and she has suddenly shifted from annoyed and giving Castle crap to calm and professional. "What is it? Is she pregnant?" she asks.

"Actually, we already had the baby," he says softly, wincing as Paula responds with incomprehensible, high pitched protests. "Paula," he tries, but she doesn't let him get another word in. "Paula!" It startles Brandon, making him jump and wail and she sighs as Castle begins to mumble apologies over and over again. But it's actually the crying that gets Paula's attention.

"You actually had a baby?" asks his publicist. Castle smiles and fills Paula in on the situation as she gently coaxes Brandon back to her breast.

* * *

Kate ends up making the final decision, while he sits next to her, on the closed toilet seat, listening as his wife makes the decision. Brandon stays in the tub with her even after he's done eating, as she burps him and snuggles him until he eventually, inevitably, needs a diaper change. He ends up changing Brandon's diaper on the bathroom floor, glad that their son is the kind of baby who doesn't mind having his diaper changed.

Kate tells Paula to print a small article on page six. They can use the pictures they set in when the papers announced their wedding, according to Kate, but there will be _no _pictures of Brandon. She also tells Paula that there can be no mention of her not knowing about the pregnancy, that they have to find _some _plausible lie that won't make her sound like a horrible detective and mother. He of course, told her that there was _no way _people would think that she's a bad detective, especially after the very public arrest of Senator Bracken. And that it doesn't matter what strangers think of her parenting skills, he knows she's already an amazing mother to their son.

Still, Kate wanted to keep the story behind Brandon's birth secret, at least for now. So Paula agreed, telling them she would contact the post and get a small, vague article printed, just to announce Brandon's birth without any sort of of details. Even his middle name would be a kept a secret for now, as per Kate's request. So Paula hung up with the promise of a short article that would most definitely be to Kate's satisfaction.

Shortly after his diaper change, Brandon falls asleep in his arms. Kate is washing her hair, quickly rubbing herself down with body wash, as though suddenly infused with new energy. He smoothes Brandon's blanket down over the rug on the floor, lays their baby boy down on it. He carefully slips Brandon into his onesie, pulls the small pants up over Brandon's legs, slips the socks onto his feet. As Kate rinses the shampoo out of her hair, he swaddles Brandon in the small blanket.

He lifts Brandon up off the floor, cradles his son against his chest. Kate climbs out of the bathtub, popping the drain with the tips of her toes. She wraps herself in a towel, presses a kiss to the very top of Brandon's head before walking into their bedroom to get dressed. She changes into a new pair of yoga pants and a black tanktop, and as he walks by, she lifts Brandon from his arms, holding her son for herself. He smiles.

"We have to call them, invite them over," she tells him, walking in front of him until she reaches the couch. She sits down, leans back against the cushions, settles Brandon against her chest. "I don't want to tell them over the phone. They would probably come right over, anyway. Lanie definitely would. I can tells Gates over the phone, though. I don't think she's as...emotionally invested."

He smiles, takes a seat next to her. "Okay. Whatever you want, Kate," he tells her, reaching over to squeeze his thigh. He runs his hand along the top of Brandon's head, sees Kate shift slightly in her seat. "We can put him in the crib, you know. They get heavy after a while. He'll be okay," he whispers to her. "You saw the crib in the bedroom, right? Do you like it there? Alexis got one to match our bedroom. I told her to set it up there, until we can make a proper nursery for him. Besides, you'll want him close, trust me."

She smiles. "It's nice," she whispers, "the crib, I mean. It looks good there. I think he'll be comfortable. And it'll be easy enough to get to him when he wakes up in the night." She looks back down at Brandon. "I sound like I know what I'm doing. I mean, I did some research at the hospital, but I just…" She lets out a sigh and looks back up at him. "I never thought I'd be this kind of mom, you know. I didn't think I'd love it this much in such a short amount of time." She smiles down at the baby. "It's like he's magic or something."

"Like lightning," he whispers and she nods, accepting his comparison. "Trust me, Kate, I know. I told you before, about Alexis, about how you love them instantly, so much, Kate. It's like… I can't even describe it." He feels himself smile, leans over to press a kiss to the crown of her head. "And now you get it, Kate. It's amazing, isn't it?" he whispers.

She looks up at him, smiling, tears gleaming in her eyes. He chuckles softly as he wipes them away with the pad of his thumb. She chuckles, too. "God, I feel so...emotional," she chuckles. "The doctor said I would be hormonal, right? This is normal?" It's a question rather than a statement and he laughs as she nods, as though answering her own question. He nods with her.

"You just had a surprise baby, Kate, I think you have earned to right to have your emotions a little out of check," he tells her. He brings his hand up to cradle the back of Brandon's head, leans over and presses another kiss to the top of her head. "You wanna put him in his crib now?"

"Want to?" she asks. "No. But my arms are getting tired, so it might be better, and I'm about to have a really serious conversation with my boss, so yeah." She looks down at Brandon then back up at him. "Can you grab him, though. If I bring him, I won't be able to put him down." Her smile is shy, sheepish, and he smiles back, nodding his head and gently, slowly taken Brandon from her arms.

When he returns to the living room, her phone is pressed against her ear and she's silent, like she's waiting for Gates to pick up. When she does, he watches, listens as she greets her boss.

"Hello, Sir," she yes. He takes a seat next to her, rests a hand on her knee in attempt to be supportive as she winces slightly. "Actually, Sir, I was never sick."


	2. Chapter 2

**_disclosure_**

* * *

_disclosure: _(noun) the action of making new or secret information known

* * *

The other end of the line is quiet for a moment, almost eerily so, like Gates is trying _really _hard to figure something out. She figures it probably has something to do with the fact that she just confessed to lying to get out of going to work. And even though her reason was good, _great _even, Gates doesn't know that, and she's certainly not the kind of employee to lie to get out of work.

"Sir?" she asks softly, feeling the gentle pressure of fear within her chest. She's never actually _lied _to Gates about something like this before. She's withheld information, details, but in the end the case always seemed to get solved, and that was enough for Gates to let her off the hook. The last time Gates was actually upset with her, she got suspended, and then she resigned. She kinda doesn't want to put up with that again.

"Yes, detective?" asks Gates, voice steady, strong, demanding respect like her voice always does. She hears the shuffling of paper on the other end of the line, the impatient click of a pen, the exasperated exhale, like Gates is truly puzzled. Not that she expects Gates to come up with the answer. Nobody who knows her would guess that _this _is how she spent her weekend. "If you weren't ill, may I ask why you weren't present, detective Beckett?" she adds.

"Um," she manages, because of course she tried to plan this conversation, but actually telling your boss that you had a baby when you were never even pregnant, well, didn't know you were pregnant, isn't a conversation you can just jump into. Castle squeezes her knee, and she turns to look into his eyes, to draw courage from them, like she always does. "I was at the hospital," she answers. She then mentally slaps herself for how stupid _that _sounds, considering she _just _told Gates she _wasn't _sick.

Gates falls silent again, like she's trying to decode the mixed messages she's unintentionally sending. "Well, detective, I must admit to being confused," says Gates eventually, making her nod in understanding even though her boss cannot see her. "If you weren't sick, why were you in the hospital?" she asks simply, not guessing, but leaving no room for uncertainty as to what the question means. She knows she has to tell the truth.

Castle squeezes her knee again, strong and supportive. "Actually, Sir, I had a baby," she says in one quick breath, and through the line she hears the shocked snap of a jaw and and clatter of the pen against the desk. Well, she assumes it's the desk. "I, uh… In the bathtub," she stutters, and then actually slaps her forehead. "I didn't know I was pregnant," she manages, "so I didn't know I was, uh, in labor until it was too late. I had a baby in the bathtub," she explains, and the sentence pulls a chuckle from her throat because even though her baby is right there in the next room, it sounds _insane._

"A baby?" asks Gates, and she hums her affirmative, a smile coming across her face. "Wow. I never would have guessed," speaks her captain, the words seemingly not meant for her, rather Gates speaking to herself. "You really didn't seem to be expecting." That parts for her, and she hums her affirmative again, a smile coming across her face. Gates is someone she looks up to, a fellow police officer that she looks up to, and if Gates didn't see anything, but must have really been nothing to see. "Is the baby healthy, detective?"

She smiles, settles back against the cushions. Her free hand, the one not holding the phone to her ear, wraps around his fingers, the ones that had been holding her knee. "He is, Sir. He's very healthy, very happy," she tells Gates, and even to her own ears, she sounds too sappy, to emotional, and yet she doesn't care. "Oh, and he's a boy. We named him Brandon James."

"That's wonderful, detective," says Gates, and even though it's not something she sees, much less hears, often, she can tell that Gates is smiling, genuinely happy for her. "Is there anything I can do for you?" she asks. She hears more shuffling over the phone, the tap of something against the top of Gates' desk, the click of the pen again. The mood over the phone is still surprisingly light.

"Well, I don't know if there's a such thing as emergency maternity leave or something like that or like medical leave that I qualify for. If not, I think I have some vacation days saved up since my honeymoon. And I can afford to take unpaid leave," she begins, until Castle squeezing her hand informs her that she's rambling. "What I'm trying to say is that I need time off to be with my baby, Sir, no matter what that takes."

"Of course, detective," responds Gates. "I remember being a new mother. I wanted nothing more than to be with my son." She hears a content sigh through the phone, like Gates is loving these memories of her son's childhood. She smiles to herself in reaction. "I definitely understand. If you could get a copy of your medical records, as well as the baby's, it might facilitate the process of getting your official maternity leave sooner. In the mean time, I will use up your vacation days. I'll contact you as soon as I have information, or if your vacation days are running low," says Gates, her voice returning to its usual, informative tone. "Anything else?"

"Uh, yes, actually," she admits. "I was wondering if detectives Ryan and Esposito have an active case, or if you can spare them for a little while this afternoon." She leans farther back into the couch cushions, sees Castle's slow reassuring smile. "I want them to meet Brandon, sooner rather than later. It's already been two days and I haven't told them anything and they're my team so I want them to know–"

"Detective, you're rambling," says Gates, and she hears both Gates and Castle chuckle softly. "Detectives Ryan and Esposito are free at the moment, simply going over a cold case. If you want I can forward your call to Ryan's desk," suggests the Captain.

"No, thank you, Sir," she responds. "I just wanted to know if they were free. I do, however, have other calls to make, so I'm going to have to let you go, if there's nothing else we need to discuss."

"No, detective, you can go on, make your other calls," says Gates. "But before I let you go, detective?"

"Yes?" she asks softly.

"Congratulations. I'm sure you make a great mother."

* * *

She walks past him and into their bedroom. He watches her go, the slight, natural sway of her hips as she disappears past their bedroom wall. The muscles of her lower back are still tense, a fact visible through the thin material of her tank top. He stands up, pushing himself off the couch, and follows her, past the walls of bookcases, through his office all the way to their bedroom, where he finds her.

She's leaning over ther edge of the crib, supporting her weight on her elbows. There's a smile of her face, soft and content, as she stares down into the crib at where he carefully placed Brandon earlier. Their baby is happy, not making a sound as he sleeps peacefully in his crib. He's warm and swaddled, that much he knows, the wrap of the blanket done expertly, a skill he acquired back when Alexis was a baby, one that is seemingly much like riding a bike, because swaddling Brandon was pretty natural, too.

He leans over the edge of the crib, too, his shadow casting across their baby, thanks to the angle of the bedroom light. Brandon looks like a bobblehead. His entire body, arms and legs, all wrapped so tightly in the blanket that his head looks huge in comparison to his body. His eyes are closed, lips parted, tiny little nostrils flaring ever so slightly with each and every one of his breaths.

"Lanie will be here soon," announces Kate. She reaches down into the crib, finger slipping under the hem of Brandon's blanket, across where his collarbone is. She repeats the action with the other side of the blanket, brushing her finger across each of his shoulders, adjusting the tiny little hat on his head. Brandon sleeps peacefully through it all, just lying there, oblivious to his mother's finicking. "Are you sure this is comfy for him? It looks a little tight," she says softly.

"I'm sure, Kate. The nurse recommended it, remember?" he reminds her, and he sees her sigh softly, nod slightly. "It will keep him warm while his body adjusts to the temperature of the outside world," he tells her softly. His one hand curls around the edge of the crib and he settles the other on the middle of her back. "And it reminds him of what it was like when he was inside you, all warm and safe."

She takes another slow breath. "Yeah, I guess," she concedes, the back of her index brushing across the swell of Brandon's chubby cheek. She then looks up from the crib, up at him, a scared, almost sad smile making the corners of her lips curl upwards halfheartedly. "I just… I feel like I did so much wrong when I was pregnant, because I didn't know. Now, I just want to do everything right."

"I know," he whispers back to her. With the hand that's still on her back, he pulls her towards him, his other hand releasing the crib to splay across the dip of her lower back. She wraps her arms around his waist, rests her head against his shoulder. "And you know what? We'll make mistakes. But that's okay. He'll forgive us, Kate." He presses a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "I love seeing how much you love him." Another kiss, the press of his hand against her spine. "How are you going to tell Lanie?"

She chuckles softly and pulls away from him slightly, her arms still around his waist as her eyes meet his. "I have no idea," she admits, "but she's my best friend and I promised her that, after you, she would be the first to know when I got pregnant, and I figure that since we skipped the pregnancy step, I should probably tell her about him before the boys." She shrugs. "She'll probably scream, you know. She's going to wake him up."

He hums softly. "He doesn't have a steady sleep schedule yet, anyway," he reminds her. "He'll be okay with it, trust me, maybe cry a little and make your mommy hormones go crazy, but he will be okay."

She scowls. "My mommy hormones _don't _go _crazy_," she tells him, eyes narrowing accusingly, arms crossing her chest, just like she would have done had he even mentioned the possibility of them being _here, _married with a _baby _back during the first few years of their partnership.

He laughs, reaches out and rests his hand on her upper arm. "Kate, your mommy hormones have been nothing but crazy since he was born," he tells her. "You've barely been willing to let him out of your sight, out of your _arms, _most of the time. But that's okay. That's great." His hand floats from her arm to her cheek, thumb drifting across her cheekbone. "It's perfect."

She frowns. "I didn't think I'd be this kind of mom," she whispers. He nods his head, the sentence no surprise, the information already known. "But he's just… It's like he gave me some rose colored glasses or something and shot me up with happy juice." She laughs, blushes at her own comparison. "I…" she struggles, and then looks back up at him, a shy smile on her face. "My mommy hormones are crazy," she concedes.

He reaches for her, wraps his arms around her and pulls her against him, his lips brushing against her head. "I like it," he whispers to her, words soft in her hair. He feels her smile against his chest, and his hand trails down her back, fingers curling around her hips, thumbs drifting across the still tense muscles of her stomach. "How you feeling? Still sore?"

She hums against him. "Not too much. Been in worse pain," she tells him, "and pain with no reward, especially not one as good as Brandon." She pulls away from his slight, leans back just enough for her face to be visible, hair flitting over her shoulders. "I'm fine, babe. Just a little sore...like I did too many sit ups or something, okay? It's all worth it."

He leans down, presses a peck to the tip of her nose. "I know," he agrees. "I just hate that you had to go through so much pain, no matter how great the reward."

She smiles up at him, stands on her toes to press her lips against his, brief and soft and sweet. "I know."

He leans down to capture her lips again, and again, and again, the baby sleeping in the other room until the door opens urgently and Lanie walks in with a huff and Kate spins in his arms, making his hands land on the flat of her belly.

"Yeah, definitely not sick," says Lanie, crossing her arms over her chest.

* * *

She laces her fingers through his and gently pulls his hands from her stomach. There's an ache there, now, likely from her impulsive turn towards Lanie. But it's not enough to keep from sharing the news with her best friend. Not enough to keep her from doing anything, really. Especially not when it comes to her baby, when it comes to her family. It's an ache, nothing major, nothing important.

She presses a quick kiss to his cheek before leaving his embrace, walking over to Lanie with slow, careful steps. Her fingers wrap around Lanie's forearm and she tugs her towards the couch. Lanie sits down immediately, a quick jerky action that makes her look desperate for an explanation. She would do the same, but sitting down has proven to be the biggest issue of all, aside from leaning over, and she really just _can't. _So she sits down carefully, hand braced on the back of the couch, wincing at the pull in her stomach.

"Kate?" asks Lanie. "You're walking like you did when you guys came back from your honeymoon." She blushes at Lanie's words, dipping her head at the memory of how _sore _she had been, for what she _thought _was the best reason, back then. But this is the best reason, she knows that now, and she looks back up to see Lanie staring at her intently. "But I'm pretty sure if you invited me to give me details like _that, _Writer Boy wouldn't be in the room." She motions to Castle with her thumb. "So you gotta tell me what's up."

She knows there's no point in small talk. She missed two days of work, claiming to be sick, a claim which _obviously _made it around the entire precinct because she barely even remembers the last time she actually called in sick. And now her best friend just walked in on her making out with her husband, and she's walking slower than a turtle and like she spent the past two days having _really _rough sex. And Lanie as already deciphered that _that _is not the case, which is _true, _of course. And with Lanie this curious, this intrigued, she won't give up until the truth is revealed.

"I was pregnant," she answers quickly, smiling at the look of utter confusion that instantly crosses Lanie's face. "And then…" she trails, looks around and then slowly pushes herself up from the couch. Castle notices, disappears into their bedroom. By the time she get's past the office wall, disguised by the thick layers of books that separate her from Lanie, he's holding a swaddled Brandon in his arm. He hands the baby over to her, presses a quick kiss to her cheek and lingers there as she returns to show Lanie. The minute she emerges back into the living room, Lanie's eyes go wide, and her own smile widens. "And then he, uh, popped out."

Lanie's jaw hits the floor, the room falling completely silent. Castle leans against the side of one of the bookshelves, and she turns back to smile at him before turning back to Lanie, taking a step towards her friend, cradling her son's round head in her palm. He's still sleeping peacefully, the movement not waking him as he lays limp in her arms, comfortable in the warmth of his blanket.

She sits back down on the couch, slow and careful as Castle walks up behind her, rests a palm on her lower back to support her rather than having her hold onto the couch. He takes a seat next to her, once she's sitting, and his arm drapes across her shoulders. His other hand rests above hers on Brandon's head, his thumb rubbing circle into the fabric of their little boy's hat, and they wait for Lanie to regain her composure.

"What?" she shouts when she does, high pitched and shocked and happy. The noise is loud and makes Brandon startle in her arms, eyes opening wide and body going rigid, his limbs fighting against the confines on his blanket. They all watch him as he manages to get one arm free and his fingers are spread open like he's expecting a high five. And then his mouth opens wide and he lets out a wail. Lanie winces. "Sorry," she apologizes, her voice as soft as a whisper.

She looks up at her friend. "It's okay," she promises. "We, uh, expected it." She shrugs. Castle pushes himself off the couch, disappears into their bedroom and returns with one of the green pacifiers a nurse gave them upon finding out that they were completely unprepared for a baby. He spins it on his fingers, smiling at her. She smiles back, reaches out for it, slides it across Brandon's lips and gums until he reacts and closes his mouth around it, sucking silently. Castle wipes some of the tears off his face.

Lanie is silent for a long time after that, just staring at the now silent baby boy. And then she looks up at them, eyes still wide with shock. "You had a baby?" asks Lanie. She nods, pulls Brandon a little tighter against her chest. "And, uh…" She looks back down at the baby, takes in his blue cap and blanket, looks back up, smiling. "You have a son?" she asks.

She smiles, looks back down at the baby. His eyes are still cloudy and she doubts he can actually see her, but at the same time, he is looking in her direction, up from the shadow her head casts over his face. She races her hand from the flat of his back, lets her thumb drift over the hoop of the pacifier. "Yeah," she whispers, more to herself and her baby than to Lanie. "Yeah, I have a son." She looks back up at Lanie, blinks back the tears that well in her eyes, brushes her thumb across his cheek.

Lanie's smile widens. "What..? You were pregnant?" She raises a brow in response, motions down to Brandon with a tilt of her chin. "Of course you were," says Lanie, "but, I mean, _how? _I know you pretty well, Kate, and I'm a doctor, not an OB, but _still, _you're my best friend, I should have known...something."

"Lanie, I didn't even know. I was sitting in the bathtub in gut wrenching pain and Castle tells me I have to push because I'm having a baby," she says. "Trust me, Lanie, nobody knew anything. I didn't. Castle didn't. Nobody knew anything until… Well, until it was too late, until he was making his big appearance." She looks back down at Brandon, smiles. "Takes after his dad and grandma, this one, with his flair for the dramatic. Don't you, B.J.?"

"B.J.?" asks Lanie. She looks up, brows furrowed, and Lanie shrugs. "You never told me his name."

"Oh," she whispers. "Well, Lanie, this is Brandon James Castle."

* * *

He watches as she hands the baby off to Lanie, fingers gently plucking at the edge of his blanket because she obviously doesn't want to let him go. She never does. But Lanie is sweet about it, kind and understanding towards her best friend. She slowly lifts Brandon from between Kate's hands, lets him hover between them for a couple seconds as Kate slowly accepts the idea of letting her baby into somebody else's arms. It's the battle she fights every single time she lets somebody else take Brandon, with everybody but him. And maybe even him, too.

When Lanie stands up, begins swaying back and forth and cooing at Brandon, Kate stands up, too. He does, too, wraps his arm around her waist and slowly, carefully in order to not upset her already sore muscles further, pulls her against him, his hand pressing against her stomach. She comes willingly, taking a couple steps back until her back is against his chest and he can leans down, brush her hair back with his nose, presses his lips softly to the slope of her neck.

"Mommy hormones, Kate," he whispers to her, squeezing her hips, "you gotta tamper them." His lips purse against her neck again, even as she elbows him in the gut. Not violently, rather more annoyed and playful.

"My mommy hormones are _not _going crazy right now," she insists, pulling her neck from his lips and turning to shoot him a glare. "I just… He was just crying like two minutes ago, okay? I want to make sure he's okay. That's _normal, _Castle, but it has nothing to do with crazy mommy hormones."

He hums at her, nods his head in a way that makes it obvious that he's not convinced. "That's the mommy hormones, Kate. Yes, they are normal. And they're absolutely breathtaking to watch," he whispers to her, nuzzles his nose against the ridge of her cheekbone. "I'm not complaining. Just saying that she's your best friend. She won't hurt your baby."

"I know," she huffs. She lets him press a soft kiss to her cheek before turning back to Lanie. He does, too, arms still wrapped around her middle. They watch together as Lanie gently bounces, brushes her fingers across Brandon's chubby cheeks, rocks the baby back and forth. As she adjusts his hat on his head, whispers to him that he has _the best parents in the whole wide world._ He looks at Kate to catch her reaction. Her cheeks are red at Lanie's words, but the smile across her face reveals just how much she's thankful for them.

He takes the opportunity to gently massage the tense muscles of her abdomen. They've been tight and locked and flexed since Brandon was born, lingering tension from labor and delivery. He rubs at the knots, from her hips the her navel, up until he feels her muscles begin to give and then back down to ease the ones that suffered the most. She leans back against him, hums softly, hisses when he hits a particularly sensitive spot.

At one point, as he's pressing against the enter of her lower abdomen gently, she lets out a soft hiss. Across the room, the pacifier falls from Brandon's suddenly open mouth and he lets out a loud cry. Kate freezes in his arms like she thinks it's her fault. But, surprisingly, Lanie seems unfazed. She easily catches the pacifier in one hand, balancing Brandon in the other arm. They watch as Lanie tubs the pacifier's tip against the red of Brandon's lips, and the baby's mouth soon closed around the rubber and he begins sucking greedily.

Kate spurs into action immediately, tearing herself from his gentle embrace and walking over to where Lanie is still rocking Brandon, trying to keep him calm. "He's, uh, probably hungry, based on the way he's sucking that thing," he hears his wife say, watching as she reaches out to take their son back into her arms. "I…" She turns to him. "That must be it, right?" she asks.

He walks over to her calmly. Brandon is fussing again, obviously unsatisfied with his pacifier. He reaches out, brushes his hand over the curve of the baby's head, leans towards the other side of her neck, the side where their sun isn't nestled, and whispers into her ear, "Mommy hormones, Kate. They don't just you crazy. They gave you this intuition about him, trust it." He makes sure to keep his voice low enough for Lanie not to hear, but loud enough to know that Kate most _definitely _understood.

She smiles, looks back down at their son and nods her head slowly. "Yeah, he's hungry," she mumbles, and despite the fact that he hears it, he's fairly certain she said it just for herself. With the tip of one finger, she holds the pacifier in place as she circles the couch, sits down, pulling one of the throw pillows onto her lap so she can lay Brandon on it.

He goes into their bedroom, grabs one of the extra receiving blankets and walks back into the living room. By the time he gets there, Lanie is sitting in one of the arm chairs and Kate's breast if free of her shirt, Brandon lying on the pillow on her lap. He watches, smiling in awe, as she guides her breast towards the baby's mouth, waits for him to latch on. He does, already used to this little dance they have. From the gap between the bookshelves, he smiles even more, watching his wife feed their son being a sight he will _never _grow tired of.

And then there's a knock on the door that breaks the serene silence of the moment, a loud, almost emergent sounding pounding. Kate looks up, eyes wide, and then back at him.

"The boys," she says softly.

He nods but then looks down at her, back at the door, knowing she can't breastfeed Brandon standing up. As though noticing his apprehension, with a second round of knocks comes, she motions for him to walk over to her with a crook of her finger. He does, and when he's standing close enough, she plucks the receiving blanket from his hand, drapes it over her shoulder and Brandon's head, hiding her bare chest, and motions to the door with a tilt of her head.

He walks over to the door, as instructed, and pulls it open, revealing worried-looking Ryan and Esposito.

At least, they look worried until they each take a determined step into the loft. Their eyes land on Beckett. And then they just look shocked.


	3. Chapter 3

_**disclosure**_

* * *

_disclosure_: (noun) the action of making new or secret information known

* * *

Beneath the blanket, Brandon continues to suck on her breast, enjoying his meal. Oblivious to the shock currently consuming his uncles. Oblivious to the giggle-hiding hand that is pressed over his aunt Lanie's mouth. Oblivious to the fact that his daddy, the man who makes a living off his words, is currently speechless. Oblivious to the fact that she, his mommy, is fighting desperately to stay calm and relaxed as to not interrupt his meal.

Her forearm is curled around his back, holding him steady on the pillow, just tight enough against her chest for him to be comfortable, keeping him in the perfect position to continue to feed. The other hand tugs at the hem of the blanket in which he is wrapped, frees his arms until his fist comes into contact with the bare skin of her breast, his hand soft and tiny, nestled right next to his mouth. She leaves his bare legs wrapped, knowing she has to keep him warm.

Ryan and Espo, still standing in the doorway, watch her arm's movement beneath the blanket. Castle now closed the door, and Lanie has pulled her feet up onto the armchair, laughter gleaming in her eyes like she's watching the best comedy movie. She smiles sheepishly, tilts her head and the boys look up at her face, eyes still wide, mouths dropped open.

She doesn't know what to say, how to explain. At least with Lanie and Martha and her dad, the environment was rather controlled. She got to tell them the way she wanted, soft and kind with her father, surprising with Martha, getting him to tell Alexis. But this, this she didn't plan on. She had wanted to a moment to explain before letting them see the baby, and though they still can only see his little feet, they make it obvious enough what's going on.

Castle seems to come back to conscious thought faster than she does, or at least regains his ability to speak before her. He walks up behind them, rests a hand on one of Espo's shoulders and on one of Ryan's, drawing their attention away from her and the blanket and Brandon's tiny feet and towards him. His smile is wide, happy, but looks relatively fake. "Surprise," he says.

The boys stare at him, dumbfounded, for a really long time, as though the little feet left the possibility of this being something else, but Castle's words don't. Lanie is letting out soft bouts of laughter from where she still sits, eventually pushes herself up from her chair and walks over to the boys, too. She rests a hand on Espo's shoulder, drawing his wide-eyed gaze towards her, and flashes a smile.

She watches them for a second before peeking under Brandon's blanket. His lips are still pursed around her nipple, but he's no longer actively sucking. She gently loosens her arm around him, and he rolls onto his back, fuzzy eyes looking up at her. She smiles at him, brushes her thumb against the chubby curve of his cheek. And then she looks back up and Ryan and Esposito, finds them looking back at her, again.

Smiling shyly at them, she curls her fingers around Brandon's shoulders, indexes pressed against the base of his skull to keep his head steady. She gently lifts him from under the blanket, slowly revealing him to the boys, inch by inch until Brandon's head is out from under the blanket and his eyes are sliding closed in reaction to the light of the loft. She smiles as she rests him on her shoulders, over the blanket, and his head lolls against the curve of her neck, fist landing on her collarbone.

Watching as Ryan's lips curl into a smile, she gently rubs a circle against Brandon's back, and then begins a quick, steady tapping, just like the nurses taught her. Her other hand is curled around his bottom, the blanket that had been wrapped around his legs earlier having fallen to the floor at some unknown point in time, probably while she was distracted.

The boys watch her until Brandon lets out a soft burp, the sound accompanied by the wet gurgling of his usual spit up, which lands on the receiving blanket. She smiles down at her baby's back, gently lifts him from her shoulder and holds him in front of her. She coos at him, nuzzles her nose against his stomach, presses a kiss to his chubby cheek before adjusting the pillow on her lap and settling him in front of the other breast.

But she thinks better of it, realizing that Brandon suddenly seems completely uninterested with eating. And though it feels weird, being full on one side and empty on the other, she gently shifts him in her arms until he's no longer poised next to her breast, but reclined against her arm, facing the boys. He's oblivious, of course, as his head lolls towards the wall of her body and his tongue sticks out from between his bright little lips.

She looks back up at the boys, one arm beneath her child, the other hand resting on the bulge of his full, chubby stomach. "Guys, I want you to meet Brandon James Castle," she tells them. Between them, Castle's lips stretch into a wide, happy grin. And Lanie turns to face her, smiling almost as much as Castle is. She feels her own features react, a smile tugging at her lips, the corners of her eyes tilting upwards ever so slightly.

Ryan is the first of the boys to snap out of the shock-induced haze Brandon has put them. He flashes his bright white teeth as he smiles, jaw falling open on a quiet, whispered _aw. _He walks over to the couch, plopping down next to her. He reaches down and scoops the first receiving blanket off the floor, wrapping it around Brandon and wedging it between the baby's back and her arm, mumbling something that sounds like _Sarah Grace used to get cold all the time._

She watches, grinning as Ryan draws Brandon's attention by tapping the tip of his nose, and Brandon's foggy blue eyes go wide.

* * *

Esposito is pacing the floor like he was just told _he's _a father, which is obviously not the case. But still, that's how he's acting, walking back and forth in front of the door, eyes still wide, as he mumbles something almost inaudible to himself. He, himself, stands, he can only really make out _Beckett wasn't pregnant _and _baby_ over and over again, which almost makes him laugh.

Ryan and Lanie are cooing over Brandon. They've moved the coffee table and now have him lying on his back on a receiving blanket on the floor. And after forcing them to wash their hands, Kate left them alone with the baby, saying something about how _Sarah Grace is great so I can trust Ryan. _He looks up when she walks back into the room, holding one of Brandon's many outfits—courtesy of Alexis—in her hand.

She winces as she kneels down on the floor between Lanie and Ryan, and he can't help but walk away from Espo to sit on the couch and watch his wife with their son. She puts the hat on first. It's a small little cap with stripes that alternate between two shades of green and two little green circles sewn onto the top of it, each of them having a little cartoon eye on them. And then she snaps him into the onesie, a white thing with a frog printed on the front and the words _Little froggie. _The tiny pants match the hat, and she easily pulls them over his bottom.

He smiles proudly when Kate gets the second little song on without her showing a hint of discomfort, and without Brandon shedding a single tear. And then she presses a kiss to his tummy and reaches up, gently probing his little hands with her index fingers until the baby's fingers are wrapped around hers. Even though his best view is of the back of her head, he can tell that she's smiling.

And then the couch sinks down next to him, and he turns to see a slightly calmer Esposito sitting next to him. Though he still looks a little pale, Espo is actually _looking _at Brandon. And, as though reality his finally sinking in, his eyes slowly return to normal, his jaw slowly, but surely, closing. And after a couple minutes of sitting there and watching Beckett with Brandon, he smiles.

He, himself, smiles, too. "You know, as long as you wash your hands, I'm sure Kate would let you hold him. Or at least play with him down there, too," he tells Espo, smiling at the detective before looking back down at where Kate is gently tugging on Brandon's arms, cooing at him until he pulls his arms back against his body, runs his tongue across his lip, and then she does it again.

"No, thank you, bro," answers Espo. "I'm, uh, good here. She looks really happy, don't wanna mess that up for her."

He tears his eyes away from the floor and Kate and Brandon and looks back up at Esposito. "I… She is happy. A little scared, I think. No, I know that. This is scary, obviously." He chuckles softly more at his own incoherent rambling than anything else. "It's scary, but he's happy and healthy and, as scary as it is, we couldn't be happier." He looks back down at Kate, feels a smile tug at his face.

"You look happy, too, bro. You know, if I didn't already know that you guys had no idea, I would think you guys have been planning this for months, years even. Like Ryan and Jenny did," says Esposito. "Like, uh, fate and that sap. I don't usually believe in it, but this must be as close as it gets."

He hums his agreement, his eyes still locked on Kate and Brandon. The baby looks happy, doesn't show a hint of discomfort as Kate gently lifts him off the receiving blanket, cradles his bottom in one hand, his head in another as she holds him against her shoulder. It's her favorite way to hold him, cradled against her chest, her baby warm and close and safe. And it's amazing to watch, her need to have Brandon as close as possible at all times. He loves it, loves her more than he ever thought possible, loves Brandon in that way only a parent can love.

She turns towards them, her smile shining in her eyes. "You sure you don't want to hold him?" she asks Esposito, smoothing a hand over Brandon's back. "He seems to be a very easy baby. Only ever really cries when he's hungry, and you know he just ate, so he should be good." She says it like the proud mother she is, like the kind of mother who loves to brag about her child, who sees only the good in her child, not that there's any real bad with a newborn, but still. She's a proud mom. It makes him smile.

Esposito stares at Brandon for a minute before shrugging. "Sure. I'll just go wash my hands first, before you freak out about his fragile immune system." And then he disappears into the main floor's powder room, leaving Kate rolling her eyes like she _wouldn't _have done that, even though they all know she would have. When Esposito returns, she's smiling happily again, and she gently carefully, hands Brandon over to her partner.

Lanie and Ryan stay on the floor, sitting side by side. Lanie folds up the receiving blanket slowly, sets it down on the couch cushion. Kate moves over to stand between him and Espo, leans against his shoulder, stares at Esposito's arms around Brandon. He drapes his arm around her shoulder. And Esposito adjusts to Brandon's weight in his arms before he begins to sway gently.

They're all silent for a long time, Esposito rocking the baby, nobody else willing to break the bliss. Brandon is actually the one to do it, obliviously letting out a loud, wet fart that Esposito going tense and Lanie barking out a laugh.

Espo turns towards Kate, eyes no wide for a completely different reason. "Yo, Beckett, I think you kid just shit on me."

Kate reaches in, sweeps Brandon from Esposito's arms, chastising her partner for his poor language around the baby.

* * *

He's an easy baby, really. He doesn't cry when she changes his diaper, just rolls his head against the bed and stares at the wall, or, well, whatever the farthest thing he can see is. He barely reacts to her holding his ankles in the air, or to the cold, wet wipes, or to the air against his newly bare butt. It makes it easy to quickly, but carefully, switch his diaper from the dirty one to the clean one, leaning over the bed, cooing at him to keep him calm. And then she easily slips the pants back onto his legs and scoops him into her arms, cradling him against her chest.

When she gets back into the living room, everyone but Castle is gone. He smiles at her from next to the door. "They caught a case, had to leave. I told them they could go in and say goodbye, that you and Brandon wouldn't mind," his smile widens, a soft chuckle escaping his throat, "but I'm pretty sure Espo was scared of being anywhere near that poopy diaper."

She laughs softly, turns her head towards Brandon, the tip of her nose brushing one of the eyes of his frog-themed cap. "Did you scare away uncle Espo?" she coos at him, and then pats his bottom once before turning back to Castle. "You know, it's gonna be so weird, not having to worry about body drops for the next couple of months."

"Are you going to miss it?" he breathes in returns, taking a step away from the door at towards her. There's not a hint of accusation in his voice. In no way is he asking her '_would you rather be catching killers than home with me and our son?_'. He's just...asking, out of curiosity more than anything. And that brings a smile to her face.

She shrugs, answering honestly, "Maybe a little." And then she looks down at the tiny baby boy in her arms, curled up against her chest, and shakes her head. "Not really. I always thought I would, but, I mean, it's not like I'm chained to the house, either. I just...no murder." She looks back up at him, splays her fingers across Brandon's shoulders, back, her pinky barely reaching the hem of his pants. "Getting to spend every day with my boys, _my _boys… I definitely won't miss the dead bodies too much."

His grin is wide, joyful and true. "Well then, Kate, I have an idea." And then he's at her side and his fingers are curling around her shoulder, lips brushing against her temple as he whispers into her ear, "Come on." And she does, letting him lead her up the stairs and into the hallway. She expects him to enter a room, but he doesn't. "It's up to you from here, Kate, like a choose your own adventure book. Guest room or Mother's old room."

She hums, nodding her head, the base of her skull brushing against his hand. "Well," she whispers, "your mother's room is bigger, and we do still use the guest room, but the guest room has less...sentimental value and would be all...his." She looks up at Castle, leans against his fingers, tongue probing at the inside of her cheek. "You're mother's, I'd say. He'd be...closer."

Castle smiles down at her. "You really don't wanna let him go, do you?" he asks, and though her cheeks threaten to light up as red as Rudolph's nose, she nods. His smile only widens and, as though he can't control it, he leans in and brushes a kiss across the highest part of her cheekbone. "Mother's room it is." And then he's reaching for the doorknob and pushing it open. "You know, this room will take more reno and painting and all that. We might have to keep him downstairs for a little while."

She grins, nods her head even though he's not looking at her. He nose brushes against the sweet-smelling curve of Brandon's head. She fights the urge, knows how absolutely mushy and sweet and _stupid _it would be, it is, but the words escape her anyway, a whisper against his hat-covered head, "This is your room, baby." And when she looks back up, Castle is looking at her with a smile, and she can do nothing but smile back, brushing her cheek against the backs of his fingers.

He walks her into the room, and she takes a seat on the bed that hasn't been used since the day Martha moved out. The pillows are cold, the mattress giving easily beneath her weight, and she turns to face where he's standing in front of a wall all but coated with elegant mirrors, Martha's old makeup vanity pressed against the wall beneath an ornate, golden mirror.

"I was thinking elephants," he tells her, motioning to the wall as though she's supposed to picture a nursery wall replacing that of an overly dramatic actress. And, shockingly, she can, as long as he continues talking. "Maybe a green wall, like the jungle, or yellow, like the grassy plains, and three grey elephants. One for each of us. He would be in the middle, of course."

"Yellow," she whispers, before she can take it back, regret interrupting his words. She meets his gaze. "Yellow, like the the grassy plains. And… We could do the rest of the room in that grey, to make the yellow and the elephants stand out." She turns around, faces the opposite wall, and smiles. "And we could do the bookshelves in yellow, too, or even blue or something. And get him a bunch of books."

"Yeah, whatever you want. We could make it all elephant themed, or jungle themed. You know, get a few floor decorations that are elephants and, say, giraffes. I bet we could find a little elephant. And even though he's still too little, we could get him a little rocking elephant instead of a rocking a horse."

She pushes herself up and off the bed, smiling at him. "And a grey rug. We would get a grey chair for the corner of the room, next to the bookshelves. And yellow bedding for his crib. White crib, by the way, and modern. And we can get his name in yellow letters and put it above the crib. Maybe a couple shelves, too, and pictures. Definitely a couple pictures."

She's close enough now for him to wrap his arms around her, and he does, pulling her against him. Brandon is sleeping now, she can feel his breath even against her shoulder, his tongue poking out against her skin because he's still too young to really keep his mouth closed while he sleeps. Castle brushes a kiss to her head, and then to their baby's, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other holding onto her arm that is wrapped around Brandon, his breath warm against the side of her head.

"Whatever you want, Kate," he whispers, again.

* * *

After having planned the nursery for a little while longer, scribbling a general outline onto a piece of blank paper, he sees her yawn. She's subtle enough with it, acting as though she's just brushing her hand across her lips, but he sees it, knows her too well not to. Brandon is sleeping on the bed in front of them, settled between two pillows even though he's way too young to roll over. And Kate is almost as tired are their little boy.

He suggests a nap, not trying to be subtle with it, and when she tries to deny, he reminds her that she _just _had a baby only a couple days ago and, as much as she can deny it, her body needs to recover. She concedes, and after helping her off the bed, despite her feeble protests, he gently scoops Brandon into his arms, cradles their boy in the crook of one elbow, wraps his free arm around her shoulders and he leads her down the stairs, into their bedroom.

She winces as she slips under the covers, subtly, yes, but not subtle enough to get by him. So he waits until she's settled on her back, hands resting on stomach, and her head lolls to the side. It's only then that he moves to but Brandon in his own bed, a hand holding his little neck steady as he overs the baby over the edge. But Kate stops him before he can settle Brandon down on his back, telling him to put the baby in the bed with them, at least until she falls asleep. And he can't deny her, can't put the baby in the crib when she's asking him not to, so he doesn't, just turns back towards their bed and obeys.

He settles Brandon next to her slim frame, the chubby curves of their son nestled against the ladder of Kate's ribs, one of his little feet brushing the protrusion of Kate's hipbone. And though Brandon's sound asleep, eyes closed and lips parted on every breath, watching his son next to Kate, he would swear that the baby tips ever so slightly in her direction, his little fist falling against the shirt that covers her side, like he's reaching for his mom.

He settles onto his side of the bed, far enough so that when the mattress dips below his weight, it doesn't disturb the sweet touch between Kate and Brandon. He lays on his side, head resting in his palm, weight settled on his elbow. He reaches across the bed, over Brandon, and wraps his fingers around hers, pulling one of her hands off her stomach and settling her palm on the baby's belly instead. He rests his own hand over hers.

They stay like that for a moment. Her breathing is steady, but deliberate. She's awake, but silent, eyes closed. She looks peaceful, blissfully happy, like he's never seen before. On anyone but Alexis when she was a little free little girl. But never on Kate, his wife whose mind is always running wild, whose eyelids, even in sleep, flutter with her thoughts, who can wake up in the middle of the night having dreamed of something that made her realize a lead they missed earlier. But now, with her baby nestled against her and her hand on the chubby curve of his stomach, she looks at peace, like her mind is blank.

He smiles at the sight, watches her until her eyes slide open sleepily and her head lolls against the pillow. The hand that rests on her stomach reaches out, palm spread open, arm resting on the mattress above Brandon's head. She curls her fingers in briefly, slowly, a silent invitation. He knows what she wants, lays awkwardly and uncomfortably on his side so the hand supporting his head can reach out for hers. The angle is strange, but the sensation is perfect.

It's like a circuit, like the ones he built in middle school, attaching huge batteries to tiny lightbulbs with thin little wires. But in this case, there is no electricity, just love, and no battery, but a baby, and no tiny light bulbs, replaced by their smiles. And like their arms are the wires, their hands the connections between them, the palms on Brandon's stomach connecting them to their baby, the smiles on their faces fueled by pure _love. _

"What are you thinking about?" she mumbles from across the bed. Her voice is soft, muffled with sleep, and he knows that, even if he answers, she probably won't remember it, sleep already pulling her under, into a world of either darkness or sweet dreams. But he squeezes her hand anyway.

"You," he tells her, "and him. And this, Kate. And how much I love you," he whispers back to her. He brushes his thumb across the back of hers.

Her fingers go limp in his and her head rolls completely against her pillow and, beneath his other hand, he feels all tension in her fingers dissipate into the space between the back of her hand and his palm. Her breathing is still even, but no longer deliberate, an unconscious action that has her inhales and exhales equally long and soft and slow. For every one of her breaths, Brandon breathes twice, and it's the perfect picture.

So he watches them for a while, slips his fingers from beneath hers and pulls back enough to slip his hand in his pocket and pulls his phone out of it. He snaps a few pictures of the two of them, of her hand on Brandon's stomach and the sweet, unconscious smile on her face and the red tip of Brandon's tongue. And even though all three pictures are practically identical, he can't bring himself to delete any of them, leaving them all on his phone as he slips the small device onto the nightstand and watches the real thing instead, the perfect rise and fall of both Kate and Brandon's chests that no picture could ever capture.

And eventually, when he feels fatigue fogging the edges of his own thoughts, he pushes himself up off the bed, reaches down and slowly, carefully lifts Brandon's from the space next to Kate. The baby stirs slightly, a slight wiggle of his legs and the likely unintentional poke of Brandon's tongue against his bright red lips.

He brushes a kiss to Brandon's forehead before setting his son down. And then he turns back towards the bed, crawls in over the comforter and lays down on his back. Before letting himself fall asleep, he presses a soft kiss to the crown of Kate's head.

"Love you," he whispers. And when he sleeps, his dreams are perfect.

* * *

**Oops. Meant to get this posted days ago, but got distracted with school. Anyway, that wraps up _disclosure_. I'm debating writing in this universe again, so let me know if anyone's interested.**


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